


This Could Become a Habit

by cofax



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cofax/pseuds/cofax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was his team: take only pictures and naquada, leave only footprints and dead snakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Could Become a Habit

**Author's Note:**

> Fic for [](http://agentotter.livejournal.com/profile)[**agentotter**](http://agentotter.livejournal.com/), because she is the bomb-diggediest.

"I went to the desert on a horse with no name--"

"Shut. Up. Jack."

"Hey, I'm the driver, I get to pick the music!"

"Fine, but not that song again!"

"Please, sir. Seven times was enough."

"Indeed, O'Neill. I am sure you know other songs."

Jack glowered, slapping the reins on Lisa's back--Teal'c had wanted to name her "Xena" but was overruled by Daniel, who knew more than he was admitting about syndicated action shows--and tried to think of something else to sing.

He wanted to blame Daniel, but every time he looked around, all he saw was a sere and empty plain, occasionally spotted with the dull purple foliage of the verbilly plant, which Lisa inevitably stopped to nibble on for several minutes before Jack could urge her into motion again. Headmistress Adorno had sworn that it was a safe and easy trip to Morolla City, where SG-1 could rest and negotiate with her people for rights to the naquada buried in their mountains. But this was day two of the long trek across the plain, and Jack's ass was sore.

Next to him, Daniel sneezed and wiped his face with his bandana. It was, thankfully, not baking hot in the day, but the sun was warm enough to have Jack sweating under his t-shirt. All their jackets, and their tac vests and gear, were piled in the back of the wagon. They kept the weapons in their laps, though, and every few hours they swapped out so Teal'c and Carter could share the joy of the un-upholstered front bench of the unsprung wagon.

Jack squinted into the sun, thinking about music. Ahead something wavered slowly into focus: a dark line sticking up out of the dirt next to the smooth and ancient road. (Ancient, but not Ancient, at least not according to Daniel.) As Lisa plodded on reliably, her ears occasionally twitching, the line crept closer.

"Hey, what's that?" asked Carter, leaning over the back of the bench.

"Mickey Dee's?" suggested Jack. He could do with a petroleum-product chocolate shake about now, and one of those "caution contents are hot" apple pies.

"Get Food and Gas," said Daniel.

"I suspect," said Teal'c with a wistful note, "that it is not the local version of Cracker Barrel." Teal'c liked his Cracker Barrel; Jack had always been afraid to ask why. What if Teal'c actually liked grits? His opinion of the man would never be the same.

"You know what we need?" said Jack, as the signpost approached. "ORVs."

Daniel frowned as he re-tied his bandana around his head and resettled his sunglasses. "What, those horrible little four-wheel things that make all that noise?"

Carter shook her head, the bill of her cap brushing against Daniel's shoulder. "Oh, they're tons of fun, Daniel. You should try it some time. It's like mountain-biking but lots faster."

"And more importantly," said Jack, anxious to derail Daniel's looming denunciation of the eroding, polluting fun little buggies, "they're four-wheel drive and great for exactly this kind of situation! If we had buggies we'd be at Motorola City and back home by now!"

"Morolla," corrected Teal'c.

"Whatever."

"And we'd have scared off all the wildlife, most of the natives, and possibly alerted the Goa'uld to our presence," said Daniel, crossing his arms.

"But we could run away faster," said Carter. Jack suspected she was taking his idea just a little too much to heart. She loved going fast, and Lisa, for all her pretty black-and-white coat and red ribbons in her mane, wasn't fast.

They reached the signpost, and Jack pulled Lisa to a willing halt. "Rest stop! Porta-pottie's on the left, Mom's diner's on the right, don't forget to tip the waitress." His team spilled out of the wagon with a certain resemblance to schoolkids erupting from an afternoon bus; Jack decided not to mention the resemblance. They might take it poorly.

Carter and Daniel, of course, headed right to the signpost, while Jack found the nearest bush--the only bush--and conducted some personal business. On his return, they were squabbling mildly while sharing a PowerBar and water bottle. The sign was a weathered post about eight inches in diameter, with the squiggly local script running vertically up the side. All Jack knew was that it wasn't Ancient or Goa'uld, and frankly that was all he really cared about.

"Yes, but this is the formal, not the intimate," Daniel was saying. "And I don't have enough in my lexicon yet, but I think the statement is in the imperative. It's a command."

"And what is it commanding?" asked Teal'c, handing Jack a water bottle from the wagon. Jack swigged eagerly, and then went over to pour some into the bucket hooked onto the wagon side for Lisa. She slurped, her tail swishing side-to-side against the flies.

Daniel shook his head. "I can't tell, really. I think, based on the maps they showed me before, that Morollan has a geographic case, and this--" he stabbed one finger at the top of the sign, "--means a place. I just don't know what."

"So it's telling us to go somewhere?" asked Sam. She finished the PowerBar and stuck the wrapper in her pocket. Jack grinned. That was his team: take only pictures and naquada, leave only footprints and dead snakes.

Daniel shrugged in frustration. "I don't know."

Teal'c looked around them, raising a dubious eyebrow. "I do not see where they could possibly be directing us to go. There is only this road, which runs from the Stargate to Morolla City. There is no other option."

"Exactly!" said Jack, and slapped Teal'c on the back. "What, you don't get it? Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. You really need to spend more time in commercial airports. Now, Carter I get, because she's one of those people who plans all her trips in advance and always knows exactly where she is. But Daniel, you disappoint me."

Behind his sunglasses, Daniel's eyebrows were clearly jitterbugging in confusion. "What? Jack, what are you talking about?"

Jack grabbed his shoulders and pointed him towards the wagon, nodding at Teal'c and Carter to load themselves into the front of the wagon. "Time to get this show on the road, folks--I want to make it to Morocco by sunset." He clambered into the back of the wagon, over the packs and gear, and made a nest for himself so at least he had something softer under his ass than the hard wood of the wagon bed.

"Jack," said Daniel as he settle down next to him, glaring mildly.

Jack pulled off his cap, slapped the dust out of it against his knee, and settled it again. "Check it out. We're in the middle of the desert, surrounded by nothing but empty land for mile after aching mile. What else is that sign going to say but--You Are Here?"


End file.
